A girl receives judicial punishment in a homely setting

By Kenny Walters

I was in my front sitting room listening to music when I noticed my neighbour, Katie, from across the road and her eldest daughter, Lauren, walking down their front path. They stopped at the edge of the pavement, looked up and down the road, and walked straight across to my side of the road. This was not unusual as the family had several cars and often parked on my side of the road. I noticed Katie held a large brown envelope tucked under her arm.

After they’d crossed over, they came through my front gate and along the front path towards my front door. I’d known Katie for over twenty-five years, before Lauren and her two younger sisters had been born, so this still wasn’t unusual. I got up, ready to open the door, but heard my doorbell ring before I got there.

“Hi Katie, Hi Lauren.”

“Sorry to disturb you, Kenneth, but Lauren here has a problem that maybe you could help us with. Are you free at the moment?”

“Yes, of course. Do come in.”

I guided them into my front sitting room and they sat side by side on the sofa, the large brown envelope now resting on Katie’s knees.

“Coffee?” I asked.

“No, thanks,” Katie glanced briefly at her daughter as she answered, and Lauren shook her head.

“So, how can I help?”

“I’m afraid Lauren, here, has got herself into a bit of trouble.” Again, there was that brief glance at her daughter as though Katie didn’t want to say a single word that didn’t have Lauren’s approval. That was odd.

They didn’t immediately look like mother and daughter. Katie was a bubbly blond lady, a little fuller figured but not excessively so. While Lauren maybe took after her mother in that respect, her hair was dark, almost jet black, and her skin was a little darker, courtesy of her middle-Eastern father, now long disappeared.

“I’ll get to the point, Kenneth, so we don’t waste your time.” Katie began. “Lauren went clubbing with some of her friends last week and the silly girl had a quantity of cannabis on her which was discovered by one of the doormen. He called the police and Lauren was arrested.”

“Okay,” I murmured, just to keep the conversation going. This news didn’t entirely surprise me. Lauren was a very modern girl, a hairdresser in a local salon. She drove a near-new Mini convertible and had immaculate long hair and perfect make-up.

“Anyway, the police dealt with her under the new justice system. That meant they submitted their report to the magistrates, and Lauren also had to fill out a form detailing her side of the story. It seems that if you want to plead guilty, you don’t have to attend court now. Since Lauren was caught with the cannabis in her bag, there didn’t seem any point in pleading not guilty and having her case heard in court.”

“No, it saves court time and you probably get a slightly lesser sentence.”

“Right. Well, this morning this big envelope came through the post.” Katie patted the envelope lying on her lap. “It gives the adjudication made by a panel of magistrates.”

“Yes, that’s pretty much how it works, Katie.”

Now, I understood why they were here, but I let Katie continue at her own pace.

“The thing is, they’ve sentenced Lauren to four days in jail, to be served at the local prison, or, or…” Katie looked at her daughter.

“It’s okay, mum,” Lauren whispered.

“Or she can receive eight strokes of what they call ‘the paddle’, whatever that is. It all seems pretty horrible.” Finally, Katie paused to take a few breaths.

“Okay,” I took over. “So, the four days would mean Lauren having to report to the local prison. She can take a few things with her; soap and a flannel, a change of clothing, and so on. There should be a list in the envelope.”

“Yes, there is.”

“She would have to surrender herself during the next seven days. She would attend before four o’clock on her chosen day and then she would be kept in a cell for most of the time until four o’clock four days later. It’s usually one person to a cell, so it’s a bit lonely. Plenty of time to contemplate what got her there. Obviously, she can leave for meals and a half hour period of exercise a day.”

“Would she be strip-searched?”

“Yes, but they don’t make it any more embarrassing than is necessary to ensure she’s not taking in anything she shouldn’t.”

“And, what’s this other option? The paddle, as they call it. I mean, we understand it’s basically a form of corporal punishment, but can you tell us a bit more about it?”

“Basically, it has a wooden blade made to certain dimensions on the end of a handle and it’s applied to the person’s backside. It’s similar to what they use in American schools to administer corporal punishment.”

“And Lauren would receive eight wallops with that?”

“Yes, if that is what the magistrates have decreed.”

“That’s what it says in the letter.” Katie started searching through the envelope.

“Who actually does it?” Lauren suddenly asked.

“It can be done at the local police station, or there should be a list in the envelope of private individuals who have been authorized and trained to carry out the punishments in our homes, so making it all a little less formal.”

“We spotted your name and address on the list,” Katie said. “Which is why we thought it best to pop across the road and ask you.”

“Okay,” I replied.

“So, does that mean you could do it?” Katie asked. Did I spot a hopeful look in her eye?

“Yes, or any of the others on the list. The police station is usually first on the list, although I think the general feeling is they’re a bit less compassionate about how they do it.

“What do you mean?” Lauren looked worried.

“It’s a bit more formal. There’s often a bit more waiting around until they can do it. And then, it’s basically tugging down your trousers and whacko.”

Both women looked suddenly worried.

“They’d pull her trousers down?”

“Yes, and then apply the paddle to her underwear. As private individuals, we perhaps consider the niceties a little more. For example, if a girl could show she was wearing thong-type panties that left her bottom bare, and as long as she was wearing quite thin trousers, then most of us would apply the paddle across the seat of her trousers or skirt. It’s a bit less embarrassing, maybe.”

“Most?” Katie queried. “Not all? Some people on the list would insist she gets it on her panties?”

“Some would, especially the females. Maybe one or two males too. They like to stick to the police style.”

“Oh god!” Lauren muttered.

“For most of us, though, the punishment is the spanking. We don’t want to cause anyone undue humiliation.” I tried to sound reassuring. I’m not sure I was successful.

“When do we have to decide?” Katie asked.

“The punishment must be underway by seven days after the magistrate’s adjudication. So, if you opt for the custodial sentence, then that must be started by four o’clock on the seventh day. Or, if you take the spanking, then that must be done by the same deadline.”
By the looks on their faces, Katie and Lauren had already worked that out for themselves. My explanation simply confirmed their fears.

“What do you think Lauren should do, Kenneth?” Katie asked.

“It’s really for Lauren to make that decision.”

“Of course.”

“But, will her employer be okay with giving her the time off to serve the custodial sentence? Lauren, how do you feel about being locked up for four days. Is that going to be traumatic for you? The spanking would be over with in ten minutes.”

“You make it sound like something I’d have done to Lauren when she was younger, with her across my knee.” Katie glanced at Lauren, who continued to look down at the floor.

“Obviously, it’s a bit more severe than that.”

“Of course. But, it is something you could do?”


“If you did, how would it all work?”

“She just needs to pop across the road. We’d go into my small office in the next room. There’s a padded trestle which she bends over and I’d apply the eight whacks. It’s all very simple and straightforward, really.” I tried to make it sound as appealing as I could. As I said earlier, I’ve known Lauren all her life and I was pretty sure she’d find the prison sentence, short though it was, quite a tough option. “We could do it now.”

Katie gave her daughter another meaningful glance. I think I had the mother won over, at least.

“And, once it’s done, that’s it?”

“Yes. I email a report to the court records department to say the sentence has been carried out and that’s it. All done and dusted.”

“Then you wouldn’t have it hanging over you, Lauren darling. Would you?”

Lauren suddenly looked up into her mother’s face. Her expression seemed to be a mix of anger and surprise, even shock. She clearly recognized that her mother thought the spanking the best option. Lauren hadn’t yet reached that conclusion.

“Kenneth, we’ve taken up enough of your time.” Katie turned to me. “You’ve given us all the information we need. I think Lauren and I need to go back home and have a think about things.”

“Yes,” I replied. “You still have a little time in hand. Be careful, though. A week soon passes, and you certainly don’t want extra consequences for not following the court ruling.”

And then they were gone.

Did I want to spank Lauren? Well, yes. She was an attractive girl. That said, I did genuinely feel any kind of custodial sentence would be a tough ordeal for her. I knew Katie had spanked her occasionally when Lauren was younger, so the experience would not be entirely new to her. Lauren knew me well, and I liked to think she felt I would at least give her a fair deal and be no tougher on her than I needed to be.
I went back to my music and put the matter to the back of my mind, at least as far as I could.

About an hour later, I noticed movement in Katie’s front room across the road. Then, Lauren came out of the front door and started down the front path. I saw immediately she was holding the large brown envelope that contained the forms and documents relating to her court hearing, and she was alone. She hesitated and looked up and down the road, then continued. After another pause to check the road was clear, she started crossing over to my side. I stood up, ready to open my front door and let Lauren in. I waited, just to make sure she was definitely heading for my front door, and then, when she passed through my front gate, I opened my front door for her.

“Come on in,” I welcomed her. “Take a seat.” I said as I ushered her once more into my front room lounge.

She sat down on the sofa where she had sat earlier with her mother. As I followed her, I noticed she was wearing quite thin black leggings below her white shirt.

“So, what have you decided, Lauren?”

“I-I think I have to, err, take the spanking.” She shivered. Clearly, it had not been an easy decision.

I nodded. “Are you sure? You have a couple more days to think about it.”

“It wouldn’t make it any easier.”

“No, true.”

She grimaced, and seemed to be wanting me to take the lead.

“So, shall we go next door and get it over with?” I asked.

Lauren nodded.

I stood up. “Come on, then.” I led the way to my office in the next room that faced onto the back garden.

Lauren looked around. I have a large desk and a comfortable swivel chair, a couple of smaller chairs, a bookcase, a filing cabinet and a small trestle with a padded top.

I sat at my desk and asked Lauren for the brown envelope. I emptied the contents and found the form I would need to certify I had carried out Lauren’s punishment. After double-checking the sentencing form where the magistrates had filled in Lauren’s two choices of punishment, I started filling in the bits of the punishment form that were relevant. All the while, I could hear Lauren sighing noisily. She was clearly wanting to get it over with.

“Sorry, but this paperwork has to be done,” I explained.

Lauren didn’t reply. She stopped sighing, but I could feel her impatience.

“Lauren, if you want, you could turn around and slip your trousers down just enough for me to see you’re only wearing a thong underneath your trousers.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lauren turn her back to me and push the elasticated waistband of her leggings halfway down her buttocks. Her bottom was creamy white against the rest of her sun-tanned body, but it was clear her thong-type underwear did indeed leave her buttocks clear.

“These leggings are very thin,” she explained. “Mum thought it best to not wear anything thicker.”

“Yes, that’s all fine, thanks Lauren. You can pull your trousers back up.”

As she pulled the waistband back up, the thin leggings moulded themselves around her full, shapely backside.

I still hadn’t quite finished filling in the form, so I suggested: “Lauren, you can go over to the trestle and bend over it. I shall only be a few more seconds.”

“C-could I see the paddle first?” She asked nervously.

“Oh, of course. It’s in the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet.”

After I heard her pull open the bottom drawer, I looked round and saw her bend over and take my wooden paddle out. She presented an impressive target. Then, she stood up and examined the implement.

“What do you think?” I asked over my shoulder, my eyes back on the form in front of me.

“Not too bad, I suppose.”

“No, I’m sure you’ll cope just fine.”

“Shall I put it back in the drawer?”

“No, just hang onto it for a moment. I’m almost done.”

I quickly checked over the form and, when I got up from my desk, I found Lauren standing next to the trestle, paddle in hand.

“Thanks,” I said with a weak smile as I took the paddle from her.

Lauren looked back at me with eyes that pleaded for me not to do this.

“It’s only a spanking,” I suggested in an effort to pacify her.

Her expression didn’t change. If anything, her eyes pleaded even more sorrowfully.

“Ready to bend over?” I said gently while I waved a hand towards the trestle.

Lauren took a deep breath, then turned around and looked at the trestle. It was a simple apparatus, the two pairs of metal legs splayed to provide stability and a padded top about eighteen inches wide and fourteen inches across. Slowly, Lauren eased herself across.

“Get right down onto the padded top, then reach down and grab the legs as low down as you can.” I suggested.

With a bit of wriggling, Lauren got herself into a position where she would be quite stable and her bottom was well presented for me to apply the paddle strokes to the lower, fleshier portions of her buttocks. Her thin black leggings were certainly well stretched across her curvaceous backside and, all in all, she offered a very tempting target.

“Can you warn me when you’re, you know…?”

“Yes, of course. I’ll tell you when the first spank is coming, and then the rest will follow at about ten second intervals. Just tell me if at any point you want me to stop. Okay?”


Lauren sniffed back a tear and then braced herself.

“Starting now, Lauren.”


Almost before she’d replied, I swung the paddle down and spanked her firmly across the tightened seat of her leggings. It was a good blow and the bang seemed to echo round the room.


I waited for what seemed ten seconds, and then swung the paddle again.

No sound from Lauren.

I shuffled a few inches further to the left, so the next spank would apply more impact to Lauren’s left buttock. Then I slammed the paddle down. I saw Lauren’s back arch as it hit her bottom; a good punishing stroke.

I swung the paddle again, but aimed to get both buttocks equally when the paddle hit home. I succeeded, and Lauren grunted, as though acknowledging the efficacy of my aim.

I edged back to the right so I could give her right buttock a little more attention, and followed up with two good blows to that side of her bottom, with barely ten seconds in between.

“Oww!! Sorry, I wasn’t expecting the second one so soon.”

I didn’t respond to the implied criticism, but edged just an inch or so back to my left. I meant to apply the final two firmly to the centre of her bottom.

“Final two,” I confirmed as I lined the paddle up.

I whacked the paddle down and delivered a very firm spank just where I intended.


Without really thinking, I swung the paddle well back and applied the final spank just where the paddle had visited seconds before.


“That’s it, Lauren. You’re done.”

“Can I get up now?” She asked, I thought rather needlessly.

“Of course.”

I watched as Lauren eased herself up and off the trestle. Her legs were clearly a little unsteady, judging by the way she supported herself with one hand on the top of the trestle. The other hand, rather naturally, tried to soothe her bottom with gentle rubbing.

“Would you like coffee, or would you prefer to get back home?” I asked as I returned the paddle to the bottom drawer of my filing cabinet.

“Coffee, please. Do you have a tissue handkerchief?”

“Of course!” I chided myself for forgetting to have a box readily to hand. I found them on a shelf nearby and handed the box to Lauren.

“I’ll get the coffee. Do you want to go back to the lounge?”

In my kitchen, I quickly filled the kettle and switched it on. I spooned coffee into two cafetieres, fetched two mugs from a cupboard and waited.

Lauren joined me in the kitchen.

“Do you mind if we don’t go into your front lounge? My mother will undoubtedly be looking across the road, and I’d sooner stay out of sight for the moment.”

“That’s fine. No problem.” Then, thoughtlessly, I added: “Do you want to sit down?” I nodded toward my small kitchen table that had two hard wooden-seated chairs either side.

“Perhaps not for a moment,”

I looked at Lauren and saw her rueful smile.

“No, probably not a good idea for now.”

The kettle boiled and I filled the two cafetieres. “They’ll just take a few minutes to brew.”

A slightly awkward silence followed as we waited, which I tried to end with: “So, how was it?”


“Yes, it had to be.”

“Of course. I know you had to do your job.”


“I think you made the right choice.”


“There was no easier option.”


Eventually the coffee brewed and we drank in almost complete silence. I genuinely believed Lauren would not have found an easier route to completing her awarded sentence. I just hoped she would come to believe that too, and that our future relationship as neighbours will not change.

The End

© Kenny Walters 2020

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